


Not Yet, But Almost

by Moomo



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Gen, Panic Attacks, Recovery, There isn't a single pun in this I'm a failure at writing Yang, friendships, partnerships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moomo/pseuds/Moomo
Summary: As Yang sets out to Mistral, she has an interesting conversation with the Captain of a certain ship called The Pride.





	Not Yet, But Almost

An actual water ship is not Yang’s first choice, but considering that all non-evacuation purposed airships have been grounded, Yang supposes she has no choice. The little vessel carrying Yang and Bumblebee is a ship by the name of The Pride. The vessel looks quaint and charming. Yang can’t imagine it would be of any use should there be a Grimm attack. The Pride is currently docked in Vale for a stop-over before heading to a port in Anima. Mistral itself was still reeling over the fall of Beacon, as such foreign ships are presently not permitted to dock in the city’s harbour.

 

It could be worse, Yang supposes. Leaning against the wall and closing her eyes, she sighs deeply.

 

“Travelling alone?”

 

Yang jumps away from the wall, eyes flying open.

 

“Woah there! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“It’s fine Captain,” Yang shrugs once she gets a good view of the man, “Just tell me that we’re leaving soon.”

 

The Captain laughs, “as soon as they finishing loading up my freight. Are you in a rush?”

 

“Kind of,” Yang admits. “I’ve got to find my baby sister. She’s probably in Mistral by now.”

 

“Ah,” the Captain nods in understanding. “It’s important that friends and families stick together through hard times like these.”

 

Yang can barely manage an affirming grunt around the knot that swells in her throat.

 

“Are you Huntress?” The Captain asks, gesturing to the Ember Celica on Yang’s left wrist.

 

“I guess.”

 

“I sailed another hunter huntress Faunus duo into Menagerie just a few weeks ago!” The Captain grins. “Now they were an interesting pair of people! They saved my boat from a Sea Dragon Grimm!”

 

“Sounds bananas,” Yang says non-committedly. She’s not too enthusiastic to continue this conversation.   

 

The Captains laughs for real now, deep and from the gut. “How did you know?”

 

“Know what?” Yang asks, confused.

 

“About the bananas?” The Captain laughs. “The Hunter had a real hankering for them, so he’d sneak into the kitchens and eat them little by little. We didn’t figure it out until we were on our way back to Vale and there were only 3 bananas left in the kitchen. But we weren’t mad. The Hunter was a great conversationalist, had an amazing red and gold staff that were also nunchakus guns!”

 

Suddenly Yang knows exactly who this hunter in question is. Keeping her voice contained and focused, Yang asks, “And the huntresses? You said there were two.”

 

“Ah yes,” The Captain smiles. “A quiet little lady. Didn’t have much to say. But she fought like it’s all she knew how to do. Had the most beautiful black sword-also a gun-, sheath, and ribbon.”

 

In that moment so many questions and emotions erupt in Yang that she half expects her eyes to become ruby red and her hair to flame; instead, her eyes well up.

 

“Oh dear,” The Captain sighs. “Did I say something to offend you?”

 

“Not at all,” Yang responds, voice steely. “I’m just a little tired. I think I’m going to return to my room now.”

 

“Of course, dear,” The Captain answers. “Rest easy; you’re safe here. It looks like we’ll be docked for a few more hours.”

 

The old Yang would have raged, rounded on the Captain and pressed answers out of him by any means necessary. If not for her missing baby sister, the old Yang would have raced Bumblebee off of The Pride and onto the nearest shipped headed to Menagerie. However, the old Yang is dead, dead and buried among the ruins of Beacon’s former cafeteria. Trudging under the deck to her room, the new Yang throws herself face down onto her cot causing the bedframe to groan deeply in protest. Okay, okay, okay, Yang thinks to herself as she attempts to unpack the emotions that followed the shit ton of information she was just barraged with.

 

 _Blake is with Sun._ Yang thinks, as she rolls over onto her back. _They’re friends who have each other’s backs no matter what. Sun will call Blake out on her self-flagellation nonsense; Blake will have the support she needs to grow with Sun there. Thank you, Sun for doing what I couldn’t because I was so injured; I’m so glad Blake has someone right now. Menagerie is far enough away from everything that they should be relatively safe._ Relief floods Yang’s very being. Blake is safe. Blake is _safe,_ and this is all Yang has ever wanted to know since Beacon.

 

Yang has to try her hardest to stomp down the sprouts of resentment that spring up in the wake of relief. _We are partners for fuck’s sake Blake! Why couldn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you tell me anything? Not even a note!_ Selfish girl Yang _,_ she immediately reprimands herself. _Blake doesn’t owe you shit! Maybe this is why Blake left hmm? You’re obviously not fit to be her partner if you couldn’t even protect her from her nightmare. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re just not good enough? Powerless. Worthless._ Images of Beacon’s fall flood Yang’s mind. A bone white mask and red hair. A horrible smirk. Blake’s scream. A red sword. The pain of a phantom limb. Yang’s heart rate climbs and climbs until her heart feels like it is beating in her throat; Yang bursts into a cold sweat; her breathing is rapid, high and nasally; and black blotches begin to dance on the edges of Yang’s vision.

 

_No! Lies!_

 

Yang grits her teeth. _Breathe_ she tells herself. _Breathe. Square breathing_. In 1,2,3,4. Hold 1,2,3,4. Out 1,2,3,4. Hold 1,2,3,4. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

 

The intrusive thoughts still buzz, but at least Yang is keeping herself relatively calm.

 

 _Let’s play the grounding game_ Yang thinks to herself. _I see the shitty steel bedframe wavering under my weight, I hear the rumble of the engine, I feel the scratchy blankets clenched in my left hand, I smell the salt on the sea breeze, and I can still taste the apple pie I bought off that vendor for dessert._

 

The intrusive thoughts no longer bombard Yang’s psyche, but the ones already present loaf around obtrusively.

 

“I am not powerless. I am not worthless,” Yang speaks out loud now, completely focused on her mantra. “And Blake would never think of me that way. I’m not going to waste my time wildly speculating on her intentions or motives for running away. She’ll tell me them herself when we meet again.”

 

Yang repeats herself once more they finally disappear; her mind feels like her own again.

 

“Fucking hell,” Yang whispers.

 

Distantly, she can hear the captain order the raising of the anchors as the Pride begins to sail out of Vale and towards Anima. Yang wriggles under the covers and figures she can catch a quick nap.

 

“I’m okay,” Yang yawns to herself as she settles in (it’s not quite true now, but given enough time it will be; she will be).

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well....apparently I'm in the RWBY fandom now. Congrats to me I guess.
> 
> All three techniques Yang uses at the end are actual calming/grounding techniques taught in cognitive behavioural therapy btw.


End file.
